Viva Las Vegas
by Clinically Insane
Summary: Wanda and Py get married-Amanda does Kurt-The adults find out-Henri and Mads are shooting a documentary in Vegas and catch wind of the wedding, Belle tags along for a hit!-Add a disgruntled delivery man and an evil pony and you get insanity on the rocks!
1. ReEnter Merf

Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Men and I'm not all that thrilled about it- damn it!-However I do own Merf and speak of the devil, the first chapter is named for him.  
  
Chapter 1: Re-Enter Merf  
  
It seemed as though everything was going to go off without a hitch. The hotel was booked, the rehearsal dinner was set and the chapel was reserved at the Excalibur. The bachelorette party would be held at the Luxor with Rogue as the hostess, while the Stag party would be held at Caesar's Palace and Hosted by Gambit. The wedding would take place the night after the parties.  
  
It was scheduled like this for two reasons: 1) everyone would need to sleep off their hangovers and 2) the night would provide an adequate cover of darkness for John and Wanda to meet Fury at the hotel's heliport to make a clean get away.  
  
There was just one snag in this seemingly perfect plan...  
  
"What do you mean you didn't arrange transportation?!" Wanda yelled at Rogue.  
  
"It must have slipped mah miahnd when Ah booked everything else. But don't worry Ah'll think of somethin'!" said Rogue quickly.  
  
"I've got it!" Kitty jumped up, "We'll like take the X-Jet!"  
  
"Have you lost what was left of your mind?!" Bobby scolded, "Don't you think the adults will notice if the jet disappears?!"  
  
"I guess you've like got a point," Kitty pouted as Piotr wraped a well muscled arm around her shoulders.  
  
Just then Jamie smiled evilly (a common occurrence, don't get me wrong, but this time it held some merit because he had the granddaddy of all master plans-pretty impressive for a 12 yr old wouldn't you say?), "Hand me the phone."

---

The next afternoon...  
  
Merf was on his last run of the day. And what a day it had been!  
  
5am-Get up, go to the gym and train for weekend miniture races, a small circut, but nonetheless a demanding one (Hotel Managment ref.).  
  
7 am-Shower  
  
7:45 am-Run through Dunkin' Donuts' drive through for breakfast.  
  
8 am-Report to airstrip and tune up all the jets.  
  
Noon-Run through McDonald's for 3 double cheeseburgers without the bun and a bottle of water.  
  
1pm-Report to FedEx HQ, pick up the delivery schedule, change into uniform in the back of the truck and start making rounds.  
  
This last stop however was a little different. There was some confusion about a delivery bill and payment-Merf hated these runs! As if hauling heavy packages (the size of himself-for crying out lout!) wasn't bad enough, now he had to deal with a disgruntled customer!  
  
His shift ended at 4pm. It was 3:45 when he pulled up to a rather quaint looking Victorian house, he plastered on the most genuine smile he could muster, gabbed his clipboard and started up to the front door.  
  
Merf rang the doorbell and announced his presence, "FedEx!"  
  
No response.  
  
"I'm here about a bill discrepancy!" said Merf loudly.  
  
Nothing.  
  
Merf figured no one was home and that he we getting off his shift 10 minutes early today, run home, take a shower and go to his night job as a short order chef. He turned to leave only his feet would not comply.  
  
"What the?!" Merf struggled in vain to get himself unstuck from the front step.  
  
Just then the front door flew open and before poor Merf knew what was happening everything went black as he was being dragged inside.  
  
The last sounds Merf heard were his clipboard hitting the ground and the front door slamming.  
  
Merf returned to consciousness about 15 minutes later, to find himself laying on a couch in a strange (as in unfamiliar, let's not start this again!) living room with an ice pack on his head.  
  
"Ugh!-What happened?" asked Merf. Then he noticed all the people standing around him, "You guys?! I haven't seen you for a while-hey, did my suitcase assist at the end there get you guys out of trouble? (Girls Night Out ref.)"  
  
"Uh, not exactly, Mate," said Py, warily.  
  
"What happened?!"  
  
"Trust Remy on dis one you don' wanna know, homme!"  
  
"What?! it couldn't have been that bad," said Merf somewhat taken aback.  
  
"You have no idea, Comrade," Piotr shuddered.  
  
"Here," Rogue took out a small picture from her wallet of all the boys dressed on drag (Girls Night Out ref.) and handed it to him, "keep it, Ah have dozens."  
  
"Are they wearing dresses?" asked Merf in disbelief as he attempted to sit up, but only wound up falling back into the couch cushions, "Ah-my head."  
  
"Sorry 'bout that," said the sultry Southern belle holding up an ungloved hand, "hope Ah didn't drain ya that much."  
  
"I'll live," said Merf more than a little winded.  
  
"Here, mon ami," said Gambit coming over to the couch with a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin, "Remy's had some first hand experience wid Cher's touch, non?" A grinning Gambit looked up at Rogue.  
  
"Remy's gonna get some more 'first hand experience' if he doesn't keep his mouth shut!" Rogue warned.  
  
"Point taken, Cher," said Remy quickly.  
  
"We like need a favor," said Kitty after Merf downed three aspirin.  
  
"You sure have a funny way of asking for it," Merf countered.  
  
"We are sorry, Comrade," Piotr sympathized, "but we could not risk a scene at the door."  
  
"Alright, I'll give you that one," said Merf in a strained tone as he finally managed to sit up on the couch.  
  
"You see, mate, it's like this..." John proceeded to explain the whole story, which with St. John being St. John was the long winded version.  
  
So we'll just check back in on them later. 

---  
  
Meanwhile, on the other side of town, in one of Magneto's privately owned homes, Pietro had decided to pay his dear old Dad a visit...(You know this won't end well!)


	2. Flight of Fancy

Chapter 2: Flight of Fancy  
  
Disclaimer: I own nothing except Merf.  
  
Meanwhile, on the other side of town, in one of Magneto's privately owned homes, Pietro had decided to pay his dear old Dad a visit...  
  
Magneto had been sitting in an overstuffed leather chair by a roaring fire, listening to Vavaldi's 4 Seasons (I'm pretty sure it's Vavaldi) and reading a rather weighty novel, while sipping a very expensive brandy. He had planned on a rather uneventful evening at home when he heard the wind pick up and the front door blow open.  
  
Magneto groaned inwardly. The last thing he needed right now was his speedster of a son whipping around the house. He was still trying to unwind from the whole Apocalypse thing-and now this for crying out loud!  
  
The white streak came to an abrupt stop before Magneto to for the lean physique of Pierto.  
  
"You'renotgonnabelieve..."  
  
"Shut the front door and speak at a normal pace," said Magneto sternly, not looking up from his book, but using his powers to pull the needle off the record.  
  
Quicksilver sped to the foyer and slammed the door shut.  
  
"I meant for you to walk!" exclaimed Magneto, "and what's so important that you had to race over here at 9 o'clock at night?!"  
  
Pietro walked back into the room and pulled out a small tape recorder out of his pocket, "You have to hear this...Wanda paid me and the rest of the brotherhood off to spend last night out on the town. I got suspicious and planted a bug in the living room."  
  
"Suspicious-why? Wanda generally needs her space from time to time." Magneto reflected as he placed the book in his lap.  
  
"Ya, but she never paid us off before. She always just hexed us out of the house." Pietro countered.  
  
"True," said Magneto, "although that hardly seems enough to make a case against her, you two have been getting along famously lately."  
  
"I heard her on the phone before, talking to Rogue about going somewhere. So before we went out I bugged the living room and this is what I picked up..." said Pietro as he hit the button.  
  
-------  
  
ring-ring  
  
ring-ring  
  
"Hello," Scott answered the phone.  
  
"Good afternoon, sir. I'm calling about a jet part our company recently sent to your address, the Z52-XL749 GPS Navigator. I'm afraid there's a recall on it. We sent out a letter earlier this month. A Mr. (papers rustling) Logan followed up on it and confirmed that you had, indeed, installed the part. He set up an appointment to fly the jet to our offices so we change out the part. This is just a courtesy call to confirm that he's already left."  
  
"I think he left this morning. He's definitely not here now. Do you need cell phone number or something?" asked Scott.  
  
"That's all I needed to know, thank you. And not to worry, we already have a cell number on file. Thank you for your time, sir."  
  
"No prob..." Scott was cut off by the phone on the other end of the line being hung up.  
  
Scott looked at the phone for a second, placed it on the receiver, shrugged and walked off toward the garage to show Jean the "finer points of auto mechanics" (ya, sure and may I just be the first to say-I hope they fog up the windows first, if not for privacy's sake then for the mental stability of everyone else at the Institute!)  
  
-------  
  
Merf hung up the phone in the BoM's living room, where her received a stirring round of applause for his performance on the phone.  
  
"Thank you, thank you it was nothing really," said Merf taking a bow and nearly falling flat on his face, still being a little drained from his encounter with Rogue.  
  
"Way to like ham it up, Merf," Kitty giggled as she grabbed his shoulder to steady him.  
  
"Dat was a nice touch, when you flipped t'rough de phone book ta make it sound like papa work."  
  
"Thanks," said Merf, "I work as part of personal when I'm not making deliveries."  
  
"Is there anything you don't do, mate?" asked Py.  
  
"Ya," said Merf smirking, "windows."  
  
Merf received a lot blank looks.  
  
"Why?" asked Amanda.  
  
"I'm too short," Merf replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, which it was.  
  
Crickets could be heard in the background.  
  
"O-kay," said Rogue, "and on that note we all gotta get goin'. You commin' Merf?"  
  
"No, thanks, but no, I have to get to the diner, short order chef and all." Merf had to declined at first, "After my shift I have to pick up an old friend, then I'll catch a flight out. What hotel are you booked in?"  
  
"The Excalibur," said Colossus.  
  
"I'll see you there," promised Merf as he headed towards the front door.  
  
"Vat you have unleemited frequent flyer miles or something?" asked Kurt.  
  
"Something like that," said Merf as he walked out the door.  
  
-------  
  
½ an hour later Chuck was trying to calm an irate Magneto, who by some grace of God managed to get from his house to the Institute without causing mass destruction as he left Pietro in his wake.  
  
"How could she be this irresponsible?!-Running off with that little flame flinging fuc-"  
  
"ERIC!" Chalres cut in quickly, "I agree that this wasn't the best decision on their part, but perhaps if you had been a little more accepting of the fact that Wanda isn't a child anymore, but young woman, who chooses to date, then..."  
  
"Charles, after all these years I thought you knew better than to reason with me during a full scale rant!"  
  
Xavier sighed, "How do you want to proceed?"  
  
-------  
  
Just then Logan walked into the foyer with a sleeping X23 in his arms. They had gone up to Canada for the day so Logan could teach her the finer points of dodging the Feds when on the run. And needless to say, the lesson had worn her out.  
  
Logan had just begun to walk up the stairs when Scott and Jean walked in from the kitchen-dangerously close to one another.  
  
"That was fast, Logan," commented Scott.  
  
"Ya, we thought you'd be gone until tomorrow." Jean said.  
  
Logan looked at them like they were insane (and well let's face it folks, the jury's still out on that one), "I only taught her a few evasive maneuvers," he explained as X23 began to wake.  
  
Scott and Jean looked at him incredulously.  
  
"You taught her 'evasive maneuvers', in the jet?!" exclaimed Jean.  
  
"We thought you were having it serviced because of the new navigator you installed," said Scott.  
  
"I didn't install a new navigator." Logan insisted as he put the now fully awake X23 on her feet.  
  
"Sure you did," said Scott, "the company called today about the recall and to confirm the appointment you made."  
  
Logan put his hands over X23's ears, "Cyke, I realize all the blood isn't in your head right now," he shot a glance towards Jean, "and that's making hard to process that there's no way I could have taken the jet anywhere. I was in Canada the whole day."  
  
"Then where is the X-Jet?" asked Storm as she walked into the room with Xavier and Magneto behind her, "It has been gone for two hours."  
  
"Rogue and the Acolytes probably took it to Vegas, that's where they booked Pyro and Wanda's wedding."  
  
There was a pause.  
  
"Everyone to the XM-Velocity," said the Prof.  
  
-------  
  
Somewhere in France...  
  
Sabertooth and Mystique were in a premiere three star restaurant (AN: For those who are unaware, three stars is the highest rating for restaurants in most, if not all of Europe). They met there every year-same time, same place-to celebrate their wedding anniversary (AU ref). True they had long since divorced (AU ref.), but it was the same restaurant they had gone to after their joint murder as husband and wife. It had become nothing less than a tradition for them through the years.  
  
Surprisingly enough they had been able to remain civil towards each other through out the meal. The waiter had just come back over with the check when Mystique's cell phone rang or rather vibrated.  
  
"Hello?-Eric?!-You need both of us?-Vegas!-Now?!-How much?-Each?!-We'll be there!"  
  
"What does 'Mr. Metallico' (Bushwhacked ref) want now?" asked Creed sarcastically as he gave his credit card to a very nervous waiter.  
  
"Long story short," said Mystique as she downed the last of her wine, "Pyro and the Red Witch are getting married in Vegas, Rogue is the wedding planner, they hijacked the X-Jet and have a good two hour head start on the XM-Velocity, which is currently 20,000 feet and climbing."  
  
-------  
  
Meanwhile at a cruising altitude of about 30,000 feet, found most of the X- Men sound asleep in the cabin. Rogue and Gambit were taking turns flying the plane, while St. John and Wanda were in the back of the cabin enjoying the ride.  
  
Once Py and Wanda were sure everyone was asleep in the cabin they decided to join the mile high club.  
  
"C'mon," Wanda whispered. She took John's hand and led him off to the bathroom.  
  
Pyro shut the door quietly behind them.  
  
It was obvious, upon entering, the lack of space in the jet's lavatory.  
  
"Uh, She-er-Wanda, how are we gonna...?" John trailed off as he stood nose to nose with his fiancé.  
  
"Hmm," Wanda thought for a moment, "Lean back on the sink-good-now I'll straddle your legs and now lift me up over your hips by putting your feet up on the rim of the toilet..."  
  
"Wait, like this?" asked Py.  
  
"Ya, like tha-no, wait keep your hands edge of the sink..."  
  
"Oy, I'm loosin' me balance..."  
  
"John, stop squirm..."  
  
SLOSH!  
  
"What was that?" asked Wanda, who had fallen onto Py's chest.  
  
"Me shoe gettin' lodged in the toilet!" St. John informed her.  
  
DAMN! That was a long chapter. 


	3. Who is Mr Wesson?

Chapter 3: Who is Mr. Wesson?

Disclaimer: I only own Mads, Merf and Simone

After about 15 minutes of pulling and sloshing water everywhere, Wanda and John enlisted the aid of Remy and Piotr, while Rogue and Kitty flew the jet.

When they arrived at the airport, they taxied the jet into a reserved hanger.

"Uh, Cher, did you call 'head an' reserve de hanga?"

"No," said Rogue looking toward Kitty, "Ah didn't."

"Like don't look at me," squeaked Kitty.

Just then the cabin door flew open and an airport attendant with a clipboard walked in, "Good afternoon, on behalf of the airport staff, welcome to Las Vegas. Not to worry, we'll take good care of jet. Your luggage has been moved into the limo waiting on the runway. It will take you to your hotel, all courtesy of Mr. Wesson." he flipped through the papers on his clipboard, "Oh yes and the staff would also like to extend an early congratulations to the engaged couple."

With that having been said, the attendant collected the keys from Remy and ushered them out of the jet and into the limo.

SLAM!

One of the airport staff flung the car door shut.

Before they knew what to expect next the limo took off and the driver adjusted his mirror to see them.

"Hi folks, I'm Mac, but my friends call me Mighty Mac. I'm Mr. Wesson's personal driver. So the rest assured you're in the good hands."

The teenagers exchanged confused looks.

"Don' take dis de wrong way, homme, but who's dis Mr. Wesson?" Remy inquired.

Mack burst out laughing, "That's a good one, kid!-I can see why he likes you guys so much, you have the same sense of humor as him, just like his grandfather, rest his soul." Mack paused for a moment, "...sorry...I still miss the guy from time to time, he was like a father to everyone. He would be so proud of his grandson, just like the old man in everyway, a workaholic just like his grandfather. He'll meet you for dinner later this evening. He had to finish a shift before he could hop a plane..."

That's pretty much how the rest of the ride went until they reached their hotel, the Excalibur.

Mac walked them into lobby, after he turned the limo over to valet parking and checked them in under the name Wesson. Then he left to go back to airport to wait for the infamous Mr. Wesson.

Once Mac was out of sight Rogue turned to the receptionist behind the desk, "Ah think there's been a mistake. We don't know a Mr. Wesson."

The woman typed furiously on her key board for a few seconds then looked up at Rogue, "Are a John and Wanda part of your party?" she asked politely.

"Well, yes..." Rogue trailed off.

"And their getting married tomorrow evening, correct?" the clerk said looking at the computer screen.

"Yes," Rogue confirmed.

"Then this is the correct reservation..." she hit a few more keys, "Oh and you've been up graded to our two executive suites. The bellhop will take you up. Here are the keys."

Rogue took the keys and figured once this Mr. Wesson arrived they would be able to straiten everything out.

Rogue handed the keys to Remy who in turn handed them to Piotr and then took Rogue by the hand, saying, "'ere, Petey, make sure everyone gets settled in, we be going to de bar ta unwind."

"Oh, and we all have fittin' at five," Rogue reminded everyone, "they'll call the room and tell us where ta go."

With that having been said the group parted: Remy and Rogue to the bar, the rest up to the room.

No sooner had Remy and Rogue sat down at a table when the bar tender came over to them and said, "The camera crew at the bar would like to buy you the first round."

"De camera crew?!" Remy quickly looked over to the bar to discover none other than, "Henri?!" sitting in the middle of Mads and Simone.

"Bonjour, lil' bro. Wat bring you ta sin city?" Henri asked as he slid into the booth with Remy and Rogue.

The three in the booth watched as Mads moved into Henri's currently vacated seat and proceeded to viciously make-out with Simone.

Henri's lip curled in disgust as he nursed his beer bottle, "Ugh, don' get me wrong, Rem, I enjoy de girl on girl ting jus' as much as de next guy, but afta wakn' up dis mornin' I was greeted wid de sight o' doze two playin' tonsil hockey at de breakfast table, den de hockey game progressed into de second quarta was in de cab from de house to de airport, t'ird quarta was on de plane, a direct flight I might add!-Den de fou'th quarta was on de cab ride ova to de 'otel and what you be whitnessin' at de bar is ovatime! Seriously, afta all a dis I doubt if I'm gonna be up fo' any mo' girl on girl action fo' at least a week-OW! De hell, fille?!" yelped Henri when Rogue kicked him under the table.

"Fer bein' a pig!" announced Rogue.

"Gettin' back to de point," said Remy, "why you be here wid cameras?"

"Shootin' a Vegas documentary fo' de travel channel, dey commissioned us." Henri said casually, "But you neva answered my question: why you be 'ere?"

"John an' Wanda's weddin'," said Rogue.

Henri perked up, "Dat be perfect! We been looking fo' a topic eva since we go 'ere!"

Remy and Rogue looked at each other then at Henri, "NO!"

Henri pouted, "Porquoi (why)?"

"Bro, it be too dangerous. De adults know we gone by now. Dey can't be far behind and b'leive Remy when he say you don' wanna be in de same state as Mags when he ain't happy!"

"S'il vous plait (Please)!" Henri rolled his eye, "It couldn't be any worse den de time Dad found out you put dent in de car's bumpa. Damn, if it weren't fo' Tante Mattie you'd be pushin' up daisies!"

Remy viably shudder. If there was one thing he thought Jean-Luc would never resort to it was the Sunday edition of the paper...He was sorely (in the literal sense) mistaken.

"No, Magneto is far worse," Rogue assured Henri, "if you get in the way you may wind up run through with a trahpod!"

"Remy don' know, Cher, Henri makes a good point.

Rogue rolled her eyes, "Fiahne! But when he's bleedin' ta death on the chapel floor with a roll a film lodged in his brain don't come cryin' ta me. An' furtha more, the only reasons Ah'm agreein' ta this is because he helped get us back together an' the fact that we're in Vegas and Ah'll be damned if we don't make the most of a heart-shaped water bed with a mirror over it!"

"Point taken, Cher," Gambit chuckled nervously.

"Bon!" Henri said, "Mads get de camera!"

...

"Mads?" Henri looked toward the bar, only to find it vacated much to his dismay. However a lone camera was left rolling on the bar pointed toward their table, "Merde!" swore Henri under his breath, "Dey went back to de room. Fo' dere sakes I hope dey stay outta Belle's way..."

"BELLE'S HERE?!" Remy nothing short of shouted, attracting a lot of unwanted attention.

"Keep yo' voice down, Pup!" hissed Henri as he glared at his younger sibling.

"Whahy's Belle here?" asked Rogue more discretely.

"She's on a hit," Henri said in a barely audible whisper as he led Remy and Rogue out the back of the bar.

-------------

Meanwhile in the lobby Sabertooth and Mystique had checked in under the aliases of Mr. and Mrs. Hellsing. As the, now, male clerk behind the front desk nervously handed two key cards to Victor, Mystique couldn't help but notice what was going on just across the lobby.

She elbowed Victor, "What is now _Elaine_?" Victor glared at her.

"_Anton_, dear," she said through gritted teeth, "isn't that our niece, _Jessica_?"

As you probably guessed by the way they were reacting toward each other, the flight was a horror with an incompetent flight crew, screaming children and not nearly enough booze to drown them all out!

"Who the fuck is _Jessica_?" Creed thought as he scanned the room, then he saw her.

Belle was sitting in an over stuffed chair pretending to read a paper as she not so discretely watched her target: a short, plump, balding man, fighting with a vending machine to accept his dollar bill.

He remembered her from the movie (How Much Embarrassment Can 2 Mutants Take? Ref) and from the time she stayed at Mag's base (Bushwhacked ref.) .

"Why yes, _dear_, it is _Jessica_. I see she's flown in for the wedding after all."

(God, who are we kidding? I just like to make aliases and awkward situations and then it escalates from there on in. I don't know about you but I think I'm having a little too much fun with chapter.)

While the bellhop brought the bags up to their room, the _Hellsings_, as it were, made their way over to their _niece_.

"_Jessica_, darling, you made it after all," said Mystique as she yanked a very startled Belle up from her chair, paper still in hand, and pulled her into a bone crushing embrace.

At first Belle struggled against the embrace of the raven haired, green eyed woman until she saw Victor standing behind her.

"You have no idea how lucky you are that we're here," Mystique hissed into Belle's ear.

"Well that's enough now, _Elaine_, your smothering the poor girl." said Victor.

_Elaine_ sighed, "You're right, _Anton. _Come let's have an early dinner and catch up with our niece. Lord knows we haven't seen her since she went of to that Swiss finishing school."

Victor had to conceal a smirk as he saw the "doe in the headlights" look return to Belle's face as Mystique nothing short of dragged her to the most expensive restaurant the Excalibur had to offer.

-------------

Hi all, sorry it took so long, hopefully it was worth the wait. I had to set up a new computer and email address (due to spam). This new e-mail address is all for you guys so have at it!

Next up: Fittings and an Empty Trunk


	4. Fittings and an Empty Trunk

Chapter 4: Fittings and an Empty Trunk

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the X-Men or any Vegas hotels-I know, it's sad. However, I do own Merf, Mads and Simone.

Victor knew he would end up paying for dinner, but that didn't matter, Mystique reading someone the Riot Act was far better than any floor show Vegas had to offer. And that's saying a lot!

"What is this the first day on the job?" scolded Mystique as the waitress delivered the first course.

Poor Belle was trapped in the back of a horseshoe shaped booth with Victor and Mystique blocking her escape routes.

"Could you have been anymore obvious? Reading the paper! Where did you get your training from, the 1960's James Bond movies? I swear _Anton_, the training for our profession has decreased ever since the end of the Cold War." Mystique continued on her tirade.

The conversation at the table was pretty much a monologue through the appetizers and the entrees. Belle didn't get a chance to defend herself until dessert, when Mystique finally said in an exasperated tone, "Well, what do you have to say for yourself?"

"I 'ave a plan fo yo infamation!" Belle informed her.

"This should be good," Mystique rolled her eyes.

"I 'ad a contact kidnap a dancer from one o' de parkin' lots, tie 'er up an' put 'er in de trunk of a car, de drive it to de uppa lot o' dis 'otel. So den I could kill dem together an' make it look like she did it-"

"What level of the parking lot?" asked Victor over a raised glass of Jack Daniels.

"De highest level," answered Belle a bit confused.

"And when was the drop off supposed to be?" asked Victor.

Belle looked at her watch, "'bout two houas ago, why?"

"You had the car dropped off in the heat of the day?" Mystique interrupted.

"Oui, so?" asked Belle.

"So-she's dead. No human could survive in the trunk of a car, in the heat o' the day, in the desert. What about this contact of yers, how long have you been workin' with 'im?" asked Victor.

"Well it's not like I've act'lly met 'im," said Belle.

"Are you INSANE?!" yelled Mystique, attracting quite a bit of attention.

Victor felt another lecture coming on and did the logical thing to do, have had extensive past experience with Mystique, "Check please!"

* * *

Meanwhile everyone had gone down for their fittings. 

Wanda had chosen a period dress, whose style dated back from the 11th century, in a blood red hue. It had long bell sleeves that tapered down into knots with a black satin belt that hung low around her hips, at the bottom of the fitted bodice and went to the floor. The ensemble was completed with a sheer black lace veil that was draped over Wanda's head and held in place by a gold crown.

Rogue, Kitty and Amanda wore the same style dress as Wanda only theirs were done in a golden/yellow tapestry fabric.

The boys on the other hand were not as lucky when it came to wedding attire...

You see, to fit in with the theme of the wedding, Wanda thought it best they wear suits of armor.

Fortunately for Colossus it was a "come as you are" party so he was all set. But for the others...

"Merde, dis metal be chafin' like no otha!" complained Remy.

"Crickey, it smells like somethin' died in this helmet," remarked St. John as the metal visor fell down with a-CLANG!-, "and I can't see me bloody hand in font a me face!"

"Ja, vell at least you don't run ze risk of severing your tail ven you move and ze metal plates over lap! Schiza (sp), it's vorse zen scissors!" whined Kurt.

"Why don' you jus' stick yo' tail in yo' sword sheath, homme?" suggested Remy.

"Great idea, Gambit" said Kurt.

Just then clanging footsteps could be heard coming down the hall, accompanied by what sounded like a horse and an ass kissing hotel employee.

"Right this way, Mr. Wesson," said a woman in a burgundy suit as she held the door to the room open.

In walked a short, back and gold suit of armor, a knock off of historical suit, leading a small horse better known as...

"DEMON!" yelled Wanda as she ran over and hugged the pony's neck.

SLURP!-Demon licked Wanda's face.

"Yer Mr. Wesson?" Rogue asked as she walked towards the black suit of armor, "Ah think there's been a mistake. Y'see Ah don't believe we've met."

The black night, as it were, reached up and removed his helmet to reveal himself to be, none other than...

"Merf?!" gasped Rogue.

"Like your Mr. Wesson?" asked Kitty.

"Wait a minute, homme" said Gambit, "Wesson, as in de Smith an' Wesson gun makers?"

"One and the same," Merf said.

"You upgraded ze rooms and booked ze hanger?" asked Kurt.

"Yep," said Merf.

"How?" asked Kitty, "I thought you like had to work three jobs, just to make ends meet."

Merf sighed and looked away.

"Yer grandfather diahed, didn't he? (Hotel Management ref.)" asked Rogue in a somber tone, "Aw, Merf, Ah'm sorry. Mac said what a great guy he was on the way over heah from the airport."

"Ya, we all still miss 'im," confessed Merf.

"But whay did ya keep all yer jobs?!" asked Rogue.

"I didn't," Merf assured her, "My contract with FedEx ends at the end of the next month, the miniature racing is something I do as a hobby now and..."

"Wait you mean you're not the FedEx guy anymore?" said Wanda.

"Like we're never going to see you again?!" asked Kitty.

"You can see me anytime you want," explained Merf, "I bought the diner...I'm going to re-name it after my grandfather."

"What was his name, comrade," asked Piotr.

"Harold Wesson, but everyone called him Harry. What do you guys think about calling the diner Harry's (AU ref)?"

"Sounds great, mate," said John offering his hand , "And thanks for helpin' us out with the weddin'."

Gambit sighed, "Py dat be a coat rack. Merf's ova here!"

"Really?!" Py lifted the visor of his helm to come fact to face with a short brass coat rack, "Damn visor," he grumbled.

"Uh, guys just a thought, but maybe we shouldn't be wearing metal if Magneto's on the war path," said Merf changing the subject.

"Don't worry about it, Merf," said Amanda, "The wedding will be over long before Magneto catches up with us and when he does the boys will be out of their knight getups."

* * *

The X-Jet touched down, barely three miles from the strip in the desert. 

X23 printed off what the wedding party had planned for the duration of their stay in Vegas and handed it out.

"How did you get this?" asked Storm.

"I grew up on a covert military base, hacking into a hotel's mainframe is a walk in the park." X23 scoffed at the weather witch. "Here's the plan we divide split up between Caesar's Palace and the Luxor, then..."

* * *

"Merde!" swore Belle when she reached the top level of the parking lot with Sabertooth and Mystique, rather _Anton_ and _Elaine_ as it were, "I don' b'l'eve it!"

"Believe it," said Creed lighting a cigar.

"I hope you're happy," said Mystique crossing her arms.

A lone beat up Sedan with brick colored chipping paint stood at the far end on the top of the car garage. It was completely abandoned. The trunk was open to reveal an empty space.

"How de hell she get outta dere?!" asked Belle in disbelief.

"Who knows?" said Creed, "Although you should have expected this, especially from a Vegas show girl. You think being an assassin is dangerous. Those girls can get out of any tight spot. Man, I'll never ferget this one time in the 40's..."

"Stop!" Mystique interjected, "She doesn't need to hear that one!-And you should consider yourself lucky this happened!" Raven shot a look at Belle, "Now that this problem has rectified itself, we can show you how to pull off a hit correctly."

Just then Victor's beeper went off, "Um, ya, Ray (short for Raven) yer gonna hafta take this one. Stormy wants me to meet her fer dinner."

Mystique rolled her eyes, grabbed Belle by the wrist and dragged her back towards the hotel.

When they were out of sight Victor hot wired the car and made a bee-line for Caesar's Palace.

* * *

Once the fittings were done the boys and the girls split up and headed to their respective locations to celebrate John and Wanda's last night of freedom. 


	5. Magical Mishaps!

Chapter 5: Magical Mishaps!

Disclaimer: I own Merf and Demon, that's about it. While it would be nice to own Caesar's Palace and the X-Men, it's just not gonna happen anytime soon (if ever!).

Merf and the boys, accompanied by Henri, entered one Caesar's Place's main showrooms and took their seats in a horseshoe shaped booth in the front row. As they waited for the Alejandro the Amazing to take the stage, the boys dug into the shrimp cocktail and champagne that was waiting for them. All the while they bragged, in front of the camera, of their so called "daring escape" right under the adults' noses.

"The entire scheme was brilliant, mates!" exclaimed Py.

"An' it all be tanks ta Merf!" Gambit commended as he clapped Merf on the back a little too hard, so that champagne shot out of the jockey's nose.

"(Cough) Now (cough) now, I can't take all the credit." said Merf as he grabbed for a napkin to wipe his nose, "Hell, if you guys hadn't made that bogus call into FedEx, then knocked me out none of us would be here."

"Ain't dat de truth, hommies!" laughed Gambit, "If anyone, we should be toastin' Jamie…" he looked around the table, but didn't spot the youngest member of the X-Men, "where'd de pup go?!"

"He vent to ze men's room," Kurt chimed in.

It was at this point Piotr couldn't remain silent any longer, "Comrades, be reasonable, we are in great trouble!" he said gravely.

"You said it Petey, we almost outta tartar sauce!" joked Gambit, which resulted in the entire table falling out in fits of laughter.

"That is not what I meant and you know it," said Piotr a sullen tone.

"Relax mate," said St. John attempted to smooth things over, "There's no way the adults could be here so quick."

Little did the members of the stag party know that they should have taken heed to Piotr's concerns because at the rear of the room, less than 50 feet away, in a darkened booth Storm and Sabertooth had just taken their seats.

The first round of drinks found the two entangled in each others' embrace.

Storm took a sip of her drink and wound up spraying it all over the table, "Uhg! (cough) Victor, what was that?!"

"Cream and Kaluha," said Sabertooth casually taking a drink from his glass.

"Cream and Kaluha! Victor, we can't drink this heavily," Ororo scolded, "we're supposed to be looking for the kids!"

"I've found the best way to catch up with something is to stay in one place. Mark my words they'll turn up before long."

Storm sighed, "I certainly hope you are right."

(Oh, if they only knew!-Don't worry it won't be much longer-Mwahaha!)

---

Jamie had finished up in the men's room and was heading back to the table, reeking of the cheep cologne made available in between the sinks. He was relaxed and looking forward to magic show as well as the rest of the night, although he knew the others would try to send him back up to the room with Colossus before any of the exciting stuff happened. However, Jamie was not going down without a fight! Rather he was already concocting excuses for why they should take him along. The were as follows:

1. He was cute and hot women (i.e. strippers) love cute little boys.

2. If it weren't for him, they never would have gotten to Las Vegas in the first place!

3. If they got too drunk, he could always just hotwire a car and drive them back to the hotel (God knows he'd hotwired Scott's car when Cyke and Jean were-how should I put this?-"temporarily indisposed". The only issue Multiple had when it came to driving was visibility, you see, he was to short view anything over the dashboard).

4. He was the only one who could…

Jamie's train of thought was interrupted by an all too familiar gruff voice.

_sniffsniff_

"This way… I could always smell Gumbo from a mile away."

Jamie's eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw Wolverine and X-23 round a row of slot machines.

His first instinct was to wet himself and run screaming the other way, but fortunately the tank was empty due to this being his return trip from the men's room. Nonetheless he had to think fast!

Granted both had their backs to him, but there was still cause for concern. On false move and he'd find himself pinned to the wall with Logan offering to piece his liver for him. This needless to say was not a scenario that Multiple wanted to play out.

He was a little than 4 meters from the shoe room but he couldn't risk a mad dash giving away his position.

So close and yet…so far (to steal an old and drastically overdone cliché).

That's when Jamie noticed he was standing next to a door that was slightly ajar.

Wasting no time Jamie created 8 multiples and sent them all in different directions, telling them that they would all rendezvous in the workout room of the Luxor at 11:37 later that night.

(Now, now I know what you're thinking, "11:37, where in the 7 hells did that come from?!" Well I'll tell you-midnight as a meeting time is entirely played out and I just used a cliché three lines ago, so there!)

Any who, the plan was quite simple and Jamie put it into action immediately, he dove through the slightly open door at his side and closed it with a BANG!

At the same time the 8 multiples split into two groups of 4 and ran in opposite directions then completely separated once they had made it out of the casino part of the hotel.

There was just one small flaw with Jamie's plan-

CRAK!

THUD!

He wasn't expecting anyone to be standing behind the door.

"Oh, crap!" exclaimed Jamie as he towered over the caped figure he just leveled.

"Oh no, Alejandro!" shrieked a showgirl in a red, orange and yellow sequin leotard, spike high heels and a black top hat, "You broke his nose!" She bent down over the unconscious form of the magician.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to…I mean come on, lady, who hangs out behind a door?!" stated Jamie incredulously.

The woman would have responded only some paramedics came in, apparently they had been called by a quick thinking stage hand. They proceeded to load the passed out performer onto a stretcher placed an oxygen mask over his face then headed out to a waiting ambulance, leaving the showgirl holding Alejandro's cape and a speechless Jamie in their wake.

"So…I guess the show is cancelled then," ventured Jamie to break the unnerving silence.

"Think again, chicito (little boy)!" said the showgirl taking her top hat off and putting it on Jamie's head.

"Isn't there some kind of a back up act for situations like these!" Multiple nothing less than pleaded.

"Generally yes, but you, unfortunately, picked the same night to take out the head magician as our back up is being used for emergency entertainment on the convention level. He'll be tied up for at least another half an hour…"

"And we don't have time to stall," the stage manager broke in, "the crowd is getting rowdy, another 10 minutes and their liable to start eating each other!"

"But I don't know the first thing about magic!" protested Jamie as the showgirl wrapped Alejandro's cape around his shoulders, which was far too long and trailed onto the floor.

"Don't worry about it, kid," assured the stage director, "I'll give you all the cues and blocking via earpiece."

Jamie gave a defeated sigh, "You're really going to make me do this aren't you?"

"Kid, we have a saying here in Vegas," explained the stage manager, "'The show must go on!'"

---

Yay the 5th chapter! I know, I know you were probably beginning to draft my obituary.I havebeen gone along time (Damn Homework!), but I'm bakc for now and I'm planning to try and finish this story ASAP!


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